"Children, come home!" cried the witch, in a failing voice. Immediately the snakes began rolling and gliding into each other, and in a short while nothing was left but the two fiery serpents, who wreathed themselves quietly around the witch's hat again, as if nothing had occurred.
"Children, be dust!" she said again—this time in a weaker voice—and the snakes curled up and fell away, leaving behind them only two little shining skins.
"Be once more men and women, you accursed things!" she said spitefully, making a sign at the transformed beings who were now flocking around Ha'penny with delight and gratitude. As the witch spoke, the ugly deformities melted away, and in their place were seen the heads of handsome men and beautiful women, who wept for joy when they found themselves restored.
Ha'penny now threw the cobweb mantle over the witch, who, clutching it in her arms, gave one long shudder and expired. They made a grave for her then and there; and Ha'penny led his companions out of the magic garden, which they were glad to leave, into the long passage-way. There they showed him caverns filled with gold and silver, which it had been their business to dig out of the earth and to pack away for the witch. Ha'penny and his friends divided the spoil, although they told him it was all his by right. When they got up into the light of day once more, the bewitched people scattered in all directions to go to their various homes, and Ha'penny was again alone in the world, although now very rich. He persuaded the king to discharge him from the royal service, and his first thought was to journey to the cabin in the woods. This, by aid of the magic slippers, he did in very quick style, and there he found the twelve dogs and the twelve cats living as before. This distressed Ha'penny, as he had hoped that the breaking of the witch's spell would set them also free. "What did I tell you?" said the oldest of the dogs sadly. "We are doomed never to regain our shapes; but, now that Félisette has gone, we are comfortable here and don't repine. Only, there should be somebody to cook for us, and our hair has not been decently brushed for a week."
Ha'penny felt a sudden thrill of joy. Here, at last, was something to depend on him, something that he might live and care for. He warmed the water forthwith, and gave all the dogs and cats a bath apiece, and then he combed and brushed them nicely. He made the fire and heated their broth, and fetched fresh cream and white bread for their breakfast. Nothing was heard but little barks and purrs of enjoyment. Ha'penny waited till all were asleep on their cushions, and then he mounted the stairs and nailed up the skeleton cupboard, so that it might never again be opened. He could not take it quite away, you see, as every one must have a skeleton of some kind in his closet, and this was the only one he had. Ha'penny had never felt so happy and light-hearted as now. He had found friends, and might remain alone with them in peace.
So there he continued to live, and I am almost sure that if you would visit that forest, you might, even now, succeed in finding the cottage, the cats, and Ha'penny himself!